Consumption
mirrored are my dreams
a buffet of perception
flagrant and cool
they drift between
reality and
confinement
torn are the edges
of yellowed leaves
and broken passages
as the plastic waiter
nods and confirms
the tainted straws
of refilled glasses
heard not are the passions
of tender calamity
but ridiculed are the memories
of gratuitous masses
measured only by appearance
and never by
quality
the satisfaction of contentment
weighs easily on
bellies full and settled
but twisted by remembrance
of finger catalysts
pushing the content
towards freedom
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